


Leave it unspoken

by Elisexyz



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Living Together, M/M, Slow Burn, They are basically married, protective mike, protective!Mike, they just don't know it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 22:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12119046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: With a serial killer on the loose and Harvey fitting the description of a potential target, Mike decides to make sure that he doesn’t get abducted.Or: Harvey is acting cool, Mike is being ridiculous and they end up accidentally moving in together.





	Leave it unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Because we all know that Mike and Harvey’s love is just _ridiculous_. Also yes, Harvey would totally do the same thing if roles were reversed. Just. A little more discreetly, probably.  
>  If you want, you can find me on [heytheredeann.tumblr.com](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com). You can message me, I don't bite :D

“Look, I just can’t stop thinking about that merger and I’m not going to be able to get any sleep, so I _really_ need to discuss it with you, can I stay over, please?”

Harvey watched him rambling, his eyebrows slightly raised and his hand still on the door.

He was certain of two things: one, Mike was distressed; two, that boring ass merger they had to work on most likely had nothing to do with it.

He was about to demand to know what was going on – because it wouldn’t have been a problem to let the kid stay over, especially since he seemed sober and chances were he wouldn’t throw up on his floor or something, but he didn’t like to be lied to -, when it occurred to him that Mike’s grandmother had been dead for about a week and that his associate was probably feeling lonely.

Alright, he was a dick, but not so much that he would force Mike to talk about his grief. Especially considering that Harvey didn’t do counselling, so he wouldn’t have wanted to touch the subject either way.

Harvey nodded. “Have you eaten already?” he asked, moving out of the way to let Mike in. The kid looked so blatantly relieved it was almost embarrassing.

“Uh- No, not really.”

“I was about to order some take-out,” Harvey announced. Mike looked pretty enthusiastic at the idea.

To Mike’s credit, after dinner he did attempt to pretend that he was actually interested in working on the merger, but when they settled on the couch, with the TV as a background, and slowly started paying more and more attention to the thriller transmitted than to their work, neither of them addressed the change of plans.

They just ended up watching the movie, or rather, _commenting on_ the movie. They didn’t hear half of the dialogue going on, but it was fun and Mike didn’t have that needy, desperate gaze anymore. Harvey was rather pleased by this.

 

When Harvey woke up the following morning, he remembered that there was an intruder in his house only when he saw him curled up on the couch.

He was surprised to find out that the sight didn’t bother him: it didn’t seem out of place to have Mike there, which was frankly ridiculous, considering how long it had been since when Harvey had lived with someone else.

He prepared some coffee for both of them, waking Mike up immediately after because there was no way that he would let the kid slow him down.

It turned out that his morning routine was barely affected by Mike’s presence: Harvey used the bathroom first, and when he got out he found Mike chilling on the couch, as if relaxing before he had to give up sleeping altogether. Mike spent barely five minutes in the bathroom, which surely explained the atrocious way in which he _didn’t_ style his hair, and when he got out they danced around each other effortlessly in the living room, gathering their things without getting in each other’s way.

If Ray was surprised to see them together, he didn’t show it: one of the things that Harvey valued him for was his discretion.

The same thing couldn’t be said about Donna though: when she saw them walking together towards Harvey’s office – and it was nice to know that Mike was there on time, for a change, reachable as soon as Harvey needed anything -, she raised her eyebrows and smirked, amused.

Harvey slightly shook his head, in a clear “Don’t ask” gesture, but he knew that she _would_ ask. She was annoying like that.

 

It was barely noon when Mike literally _crashed_ against the door of Harvey’s office, looking like he had just tried to win a marathon – and failed, by the looks of it.

Harvey raised his eyebrow questioningly.

“I was wondering… If we could… Get lunch?” Mike panted, leaning on his knees.

Harvey stayed silent for a moment, confused at the request: it wasn’t like they never ate together, but when they did it was usually because they were together _before_ it was time to get lunch. That was the first time Mike had come to him specifically to get lunch together, Harvey had always assumed that his lunch buddies were Rachel or some other associate Harvey wasn’t interested in learning the name of.

He wasn’t too hungry, but he had to admit, at least to himself, that it was kind of flattering that the kid was grieving and that _Harvey_ was the person he wanted to spend time with to cope.

“Alright,” He said. “I just have to finish this.”

Mike nodded, a relieved, big ass smile on his face. He stumbled towards Harvey’s couch, dropping there as if it was normal. It was only then that Harvey noticed that actually yeah, it _was_ normal for them.

 

They went to eat at a diner that apparently made incredible hamburgers.

They were more used to hot dogs on the streets, but it wasn’t like they had any urgent cases they had to run back to, so when Mike started praising these hamburgers Harvey figured: “Why the hell not?”.

The diner had a big TV on, transmitting the news. There was a service focused on a serial killer currently on the run.

It was only the day before that the police had officially tied three murders that had occurred in New York in the previous two months, stating that there was just one responsible and that they were trying to discover if there had been any other victims. Most of the people interviewed were so boring and unoriginal: they basically said that they had faith in law enforcement and they wished for this killer to be caught soon.

He seemed to be targeting white, generally good looking, dark or brown-haired males around their forties, for now a university professor, a banker and an economist. It totally occurred to Harvey that he fitted the description, but he immediately proceeded to rationalize that information: there were _a lot_ of people in New York who fitted the description, and it wasn’t like serial killers didn’t walk among normal people every day without anyone realizing it. No need to waste any energy to worry about it. The thought mostly occurred to him when he tried to sleep, but during the day he rarely remembered.

He noticed that Mike was staring at the TV too. Well, at least the kid was blond and he looked like he had just got out of high school: unless the guy liked to randomly change targets he was going to be fine.

 

 

When Harvey gathered his things, ready to leave the office, he found Mike outside of his door, waiting and playing with his hands nervously.

“Something you need? Because I was about to head home,” Harvey said.

Mike bit his lip, his eyes tentatively raising on Harvey’s face. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

Harvey blinked.

Was he supposed to worry? It’d be the second night in a row that Mike spent at his place, and he had no idea if it was normal. He had had his own experience with grief, but he tended to bury it in work – just like Mike, after all – and he wasn’t too prone on showing that he needed comfort. Quite the opposite: he isolated himself, even if he often found himself wishing he hadn’t.

Well, Mike was probably just more open about his loneliness than he was.

“Can you cook an half-decent meal?” Harvey asked, crossing his arms.

Mike grinned. “I was raised by my grandmother. I can cook an _awesome_ meal.”

“Good. Let’s go,” Harvey stated, turning off the light and preceding Mike down the corridor.

It was just two nights, there was no need for Harvey to play therapist. Mike would be fine.

 

 

Harvey found it a little weird that he wasn’t tired of having Mike around yet.

Or rather, he didn’t find it weird because it was Mike and he had more or less made his peace with the fact that he liked having the kid around, but considering that they had been together almost non-stop since the previous evening, he couldn’t help noticing that if it had been anyone else he would have found it at the very least overwhelming.

And Mike seemed to not mind it either: sitting next to him in the back of Ray’s car, Mike was laughing with his mouth full of kebab – _God_ , he could have at least swallowed it first; Harvey was _never_ to bring Mike to a dinner with a client -, leaning towards Harvey and almost ruining his suit in the process.

“Careful there,” Harvey warned, holding his own kebab. “This suit costs more than what you make in a year.”

“I don’t understand how anyone could spend that much money on a suit,” Mike commented, finally swallowing.

“I don’t understand how anyone could spend _any_ money on _that_ suit,” Harvey replied.

Mike just shook his head. They stayed silent for a couple of minutes, for the first time paying attention to the radio that Ray had left on before going to the bathroom.

They were talking about that serial killer, again. Apparently, he was still on the loose and the police had no idea how to find him. Harvey had watched a couple of procedurals in his life, and if there was any truth in those, you couldn’t catch a serial killer until they made a mistake. So he assumed that the police was just waiting for the killer to strike again.

He turned towards Mike, feeling his eyes on him. As a matter of fact, Mike _was_ staring at him, frowning and biting his bottom lip.

“What?” Harvey asked.

“Nothing,” Mike shrugged, turning towards the window.

Harvey sighed, eyeing the direction Ray was supposed to come from. He had told him to take all the time he needed for his break, so Harvey assumed that he was smoking a cigarette, since he was at it.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Harvey insisted. Part of him felt like punching his own face, because he was throwing himself in a situation he absolutely didn’t want to be in, but at the same time it looked like Mike wanted to say something, and combined with his weird behaviour in the past two days… Look, Harvey wasn’t a worrier, but if his associate had a problem that could affect his work he needed to investigate.

“I just… Mmh- You’re gonna laugh at me,” Mike said, shifting on his seat.

“I laugh at you all the time,” Harvey replied, grinning slightly. Apparently he did manage to lighten the mood up a little bit, because Mike grinned back slightly.

“Why did you let me stay over?” Mike asked, instead of answering.

“I asked first,” Harvey pointed out, defensively.

“A question for a question.”

“You first.”

“Nope.”

Mike actually stayed silent after that, and Harvey realized that he wouldn’t talk first. Damn kid, he was a little bit too much like him: he knew that he had the upper hand, because if Harvey had actually insisted on knowing what was going on in his mind it meant that he _really_ wanted to know.

Alright, he needed a way to put it that didn’t sound like he cared that much.

“The first time you were already at my door, the second time I didn’t feel like cooking,” Harvey finally replied.

“Yeah, sure. A, I remember quite clearly you shutting the door on my face once. B, you could have ordered take out. The truth, come on.”

Harvey sighed. Fuck it. “You are grieving, dumbass, I may be a jerk but not so much that I would deny you some company.”

Mike looked quite baffled at the declaration. Harvey was pretty damn sure that that shit was going to be a huge asset in Mike’s ‘you so care about me’ crusade. Harvey had actually lost the battle when he had put his job on the line to keep Mike’s, but the kid wasn’t supposed to know that.

“I… Uh- Thanks. That was- Uh… _Human_.”

Harvey shrugged. “I like to pretend I feel emotions sometimes.”

Mike smirked.

“Your turn,” Harvey quickly reminded him. “What’s going on?”

“I- Well, you were kinda right, I do feel a little lonely now that Grammy is… gone,” Mike explained, rubbing his forearm. “But lately I’ve been a little distracted.”

“By what?”

Mike’s eyes flew to the radio. It was a brief second, but Harvey immediately picked up on it.

“You gotta be shitting me,” Harvey sighed. “That serial killer?”

Mike gave a small nod. He looked unsure and frightened.

So the kid had gone to him not only looking for company but also for protection. This reminded him so much of Marcus when they were children it was ridiculous.

“You aren’t even _close_ to the kind of people he targets,” Harvey pointed out.

Mike raised his head, looking at him as if he was stupidest man alive – which, by the way, wasn’t a look Harvey was used to seeing addressed to him; it was more likely for _him_ to look at someone else like that.

“ _You_ are,” Mike explained, as if it was supposed to be obvious.

And, well, actually, now that he knew it, the pieces all fell together, especially Mike literally _running_ to him to ask to have lunch together, as if he was afraid that Harvey would go without him.

“Are you telling me that you’ve been following me around because you think that if that guy decided to ice me you would be able to stop him?”

“Well, it surely is less likely for you to die if you are not alone!” Mike replied, outraged. He was already done with the kebab and he had tossed away the trash, so thankfully he didn’t make a mess when he crossed his arms.

“The last victim was with his wife when it happened,” Harvey pointed out. The woman had been knocked out, but otherwise she hadn’t been harmed. “And what are the odds that he would choose _me_ out of all the people in New York anyway?”

“ _Everyone_ thinks that!” Mike replied. “Forgive me if I’m doing what I can to decrease those odds as much as possible.”

“I don’t need your protection,” Harvey stated, because reversing the roles was incredibly weird and uncomfortable. Harvey didn’t need protection, nor he asked for it: he was the fixer, the big brother, the boss. It was his job to take care of Mike, not the other way around. _He_ was responsible for the kid, he was used to being on top of the situation, to be the one in control, watching other people’s vulnerability without giving away anything of his own. Accepting Mike’s concern felt so much like admitting that he craved or liked to be protected.

Mike didn’t seem to be offended by his words in the least. “Not taking any chances.”

Harvey didn’t have anything else to add, so they just waited for Ray to be back, surrounded by a silence that was uncharacteristically tense. They were already half-way back to the firm when Harvey finally admitted to himself that, yeah, it felt weird and somehow _wrong_ to be protected, but if there was one person Harvey trusted to be loyal that was Mike, and that worry for his safety was simply another way of proving him right.

 

That evening, when Mike showed up outside of Harvey’s office without saying a word, Harvey didn’t comment on it: he simply announced that he felt like eating pizza that night.

 

 

“It’s been _eight days_ , Donna,” Harvey argued, pinching the top of his nose. “I think he’s exaggerating.”

“Well, you can’t deny that his reasoning kinda makes sense. Not leaving you alone does decrease the odds of you getting killed, and you can’t expect him to stop if they haven’t caught the bastard yet,” Donna pointed out, crossing her legs and still wearing that damn amused smirk that was appearing way too often those days. 

“So what do you suggest I do?” Harvey sighed.

“Wait until the case is wrapped up?” Donna shrugged.

“That may never happen!”

It wasn’t that Harvey hated having Mike around, quite the opposite: he liked his company, but it had been eight days and some of Mike’s stuff had started appearing around his condo as if Mike was trying to slowly take over it, and the most concerning part of it all was that Harvey _didn’t mind in the slightest_.

He knew that he was supposed to tell Mike to get back to his own apartment, much like parents had to teach kids to sleep in their own room past a certain age, but he didn’t actually _want_ to and he was afraid that the more time Mike would spend there the harder it would be to readjust to life alone.

Harvey still remembered clearly how he had felt when had moved out after tearing his family to pieces: other than the guilty relief he had felt knowing that there were no more secrets to keep and no more people blaming him for the shit going on, he felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness whenever he had to do on his own things that he was used to sharing with Marcus. He had been tempted to go back home more than once just to not be alone, and it was only stubbornness that had allowed him to keep standing his ground until he had adjusted to his new life.

He didn’t want to go through that again.

“Well, then I guess I might just as well buy a dress for your wedding,” Donna smirked. She even winked at him, which made Harvey want to scream even more, because that whole thing was frustrating as Hell and Donna laughing at his face surely wasn’t helping.

“He can’t just baby-sit me forever, Donna,” Harvey complained.

“I believe that’s what marriage is all about.” At Harvey’s eloquent look, Donna finally sobered up a little. “Look, Harvey, if it was the other way around, you would be baby-sitting him too. So just shut up and humour him.”

She was right, but that wasn’t _the point_.

“And you don’t seem actually annoyed, to be honest,” Donna paused and realization flashed through her eyes. Harvey felt the urge to run away. “ _Oh_. You big softie,” she smirked. “You like having him around, don’t you?”

Harvey scoffed, but apparently he could have just as well said “yes”.

“Alright. I’ll come up with an advice you would give yourself if you hadn’t your head shoved so far up your ass when it comes to feelings: _hold on tight and_ _enjoy the ride_. Just because something may not last it doesn’t mean that you have to end it before it’s due.”

 

 

Harvey woke up with his mother’s voice echoing in his ears, the feel of her hand lovingly caressing his shoulders as she whispered that it was going to be alright, that he just had to be quiet for his mom, still burning on his skin. Her voice assured that everything would be fine as long as he wouldn’t screw it up. Harvey also remembered his father crying and his brother screaming insults at him. In the dream, he didn’t know what had happened, but he felt a crushing sense of guilt over it.

He felt like his bed was too hot and the covers too tight. He kicked the blankets away, sitting for a second at the edge of the bed, his face hidden in his hands as he attempted to calm himself down. His heart was beating like crazy, which was incredibly stupid, because it was just a dream and he was a grown goddamned man.

His mind kindly reminded him that he wasn’t alone in his house anymore, so he had to be careful if he didn’t want to wake Mike up and have him ask questions all over the place.

He decided that, in spite of the chance of waking Mike, he needed to wash his face or something, he felt the sweat on his face and neck and between his hair and he needed to at least attempt to dry it. Stupid dreams.

When he got out of the bathroom, not feeling one bit more relaxed but 100% awake by then, he heard Mike inhaling and shifting on the couch. Shit.

“Harvey?” Mike whispered gruffly. Harvey could see his shadow straightening up on his elbows, his head popping up behind the armchair.

“Go back to sleep,” Harvey replied. Hopefully, Mike wasn’t completely awake yet and he would fall asleep again rather easily.

“Why’re you up? Are you okay?” Mike insisted, because of course he had to be a pain in the ass even in the middle of the night.

“I’m fine. I was just dreaming and I woke up.”

“So big badass closers have bad dreams too, mmh?” Mike commented, and Harvey couldn’t see his face but he was sure that he was smirking. Mike sat up, rubbing his eyes like a five-year-old. “I would offer you a spot in my bed, if I had one.”

Harvey’s lips twisted into a slight smile. “You could at least buy me dinner first.”

“I literally _cooked_ you dinner I-don’t-know-how-many-hours ago,” Mike pointed out, stretching his arms as if to say ‘what the hell, Harvey?’.

Well, he had a point.

“Fair enough. Maybe if you take me to the movies I’ll let you make an honest woman out of me,” Harvey joked. Part of him did realize that he was stalling to not go back to sleep. He felt completely awake and his stomach was twisted by a feeling of anxiety and uncomfortableness that invaded him often after a nightmare so vivid. He kept replaying it in his head, as if he was trying to fix it into his memory, while what he actually wanted to do was forgetting all about it.

Had he been alone, he probably would have turned the TV on and he would have watched it until he would have felt like going back to sleep – he usually ended up not leaving the couch, because he was afraid that standing up would have sent the urge to sleep away.

Now, of course, he couldn’t ask Mike to move over and let him watch some TV. Mike would have probably agreed to switch his couch for his bed, but Harvey couldn’t really imagine himself wording the question.

_Hey, I’d like to watch some TV to calm myself down since I’m a little freaked out, would you mind going to sleep in my room?_

Yeah, no.

“Well, I can’t take you to the movies right now, but in the meantime…” Mike leant forward, reaching for something that turned out to be the remote when he turned the TV on. Harvey squeezed his eyes for a second at the sudden, white light. It brightened Mike’s face in a weird way, it made him look find of creepy with all those shadows under his eyes and nose. Plus, the light wasn’t steady, which made everything even creepier.

“Come on.” Mike patted the couch next to him, inviting him to join with a smile.

Harvey frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to sleep? We have to work tomorrow.”

“I am an _associate_ , I have actually slept too much and too regularly this week.”

Harvey ended up giving in. He settled next to Mike, who decided to use his sheets to cover them both. He put his feet on the coffee table, but Harvey decided to imitate him instead of calling him out on it.

Harvey drifted back into sleep at the sound of some stupid reality show and of Mike’s breath next to him.

 

 

The last victim had been found strangled in his apartment. There were obvious signs of a struggle, defensive wounds that indicated he had fought, but he had been restrained and there were marks that indicated that he had been tortured before he was killed.

Harvey was incredibly glad for the lack of details in the report, because Mike had shifted closer to him on the couch and even without looking Harvey could feel him tensing up.

He quickly changed channel. It wasn’t like he was _that_ interested in the news.

 

 

“Hey, I was thinking,” Mike said, without raising his eyes from the dishes he was washing. “maybe you should… You know… Dye your hair.”

Harvey blinked, glancing at Mike as he put away the glass that he had just dried.

“Are you kidding me?” Harvey asked, wondering if there was some kind of joke in there that he was supposed to get, maybe a movie reference or something.

But Mike looked pretty serious and hesitant, he was washing the dishes way more slowly than he normally would have and he was blatantly avoiding looking at him.

“No, I mean, I could totally see you as… You know… Blonder…” Mike explained. Harvey _knew_ what it was about, but he didn’t want to believe his ears anyway. “You should try it… For a while…”

“Mike,” Harvey sighed, trying to not react harshly, because there was a part of him that found the kid’s concern extremely touching, even if he was _totally_ exaggerating. “I’m not going to dye my hair because of some sick bastard. And how would I explain it to the clients? They’d think I decided to become some stereotypical Californian surfer or something.”

“You could tell them the truth?”

“That my associate is losing his mind?”

“I don’t understand how you can _not_ worry about this,” Mike protested, and thankfully he wasn’t holding a dish because he looked like he could have crashed it to make his point. “It’s your _life_ we are talking about. How am I the only one freaking out here?”

“Because you are the only one who lets his emotions rule his brain,” Harvey replied. “We risk our life everyday simply by crossing the road, Mike, this isn’t that different.”

And it wasn’t that Harvey _didn’t_ worry either, his concern was simply concentrated during the time he needed to fall asleep, when there was only dark around him and no distraction to keep his brain occupied. But that was natural and healthy, while Mike’s obsessive worry was frankly getting a little out of hand. The kid would probably give himself a heart attack at that rate.

“It _is_ different,” Mike insisted. “There’s a psychopath that’s torturing and killing New Yorkers and _you_ are his type. That’s not like crossing a road, Harvey!”

“You can’t expect me to curl up in a ball and wait in here until they catch him.”

“But you could fucking dye your hair!” Mike insisted, and he really looked pissed.

“You are being ridiculous.”

 

That night, Mike didn’t say another word to him, except for when he asked him to go into his room because he didn’t feel like watching any TV and he preferred to go to sleep immediately. Part of Harvey wanted to talk about it again, to make peace with Mike before going to bed. He said “Fine. Goodnight.” instead, and he didn’t get an answer.

 

“What did you do to upset him?” Donna asked, walking into his office as soon as saw how Mike had picked up some files he needed and simply left for the bullpen without a word.

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” Harvey replied, defensively.

“Isn’t it?”

“He wants me to _dye my goddamn hair_.”

Donna stared at him, probably wondering if he was serious, and when she realized that _yeah_ , he fucking _was_ , she started laughing. “Oh, God, I can totally see you as a _blondie_.”

“It’s not funny, he is losing his mind!” Harvey insisted. He was pretty pissed at Mike for ignoring him all morning. Harvey had made him coffee as usual, hoping that he had gotten over their fight, but Mike was still holding a grudge and Harvey wasn’t about to apologize for not wanting to compromise his image because of his associate’s paranoia. There was no way in hell he was going to change his appearance because of some sick bastard, and ultimately it was _his_ life they were talking about.

“Oh, come on, I’m sure you would have dyed his hair yourself by now, situation reversed.”

“I highly doubt it,” Harvey replied, crossing his arms and leaning back against his chair.

“You threatened to quit to save his job, who knows what you would do to save his _life_ ,” Donna smirked. She was never going to let him live that down, he was sure of it. He decided to ignore the remark.

“So according to you I should just dye my hair to make him sleep better at night? Because that’s not happening.”

“Well, you could at least apologize.”

“ _For what?”_ Harvey yelled.

Donna shrugged, standing up. “I don’t know, being a jerk about it? I’m sure you were.”

She walked out of the office before he could say anything. Harvey pinched the top of his nose, sighing. At that rate, he was probably going to kill himself before that serial killer could even think about laying a finger on him.

 

“Can I come in?” Rachel asked, after knocking on the door. Sometimes Harvey forgot that people who weren’t Mike usually had _manners_.

He gestured that it was okay and Rachel stepped in, approaching his desk to leave a package on it.

“I bought lunch for Donna but it turns out that she had already brought it from home, so I was wondering if you wanted it?” Rachel said, with a friendly smile.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t a good actress, but Harvey knew his associate and it was a little bit too convenient that the very same day when Mike was mad at him and he wouldn’t go have lunch with him, Rachel had some food to spare so that Harvey wouldn’t have to get out on his own anyway. Way too convenient.

“Did Mike at least pay you to do this?” Harvey asked, raising his eyebrows, but he couldn’t help smiling slightly.

“I’m not supposed to tell you that,” Rachel replied. “But he paid for the food.”

Harvey sighed, pinching the top of his nose, even if he couldn’t help the half-smile that curved his lips. “Alright, you can tell him that I won’t be dragged away from the hot-dog stand and thrown into a shady truck anytime soon.”

 

When Mike stepped into Harvey’s office, after attempting to leave the files to Donna so that he wouldn’t have to actually talk with him, Harvey decided to stop him before he could run away, not because he had any sort of problem with his associate being mad at him but because they were kinda living together at the moment, so he needed to know if he had to wait for him that evening and- oh, fuck it.

“Does this mean that I can have my apartment for myself tonight?” Harvey casually asked.

Mike was already heading towards the door, but he stopped dead on his tracks at those words, his head jerking towards him a second.

“You wish,” Mike replied.

“Oh, he speaks!”

“Yeah, and I am not doing you the favour of letting you be,” Mike replied. “You are an ass, but I still don’t want you to get yourself killed.”

“I may be an ass, but at least I am not a five-year-old who gives the _silent treatment_ just because things don’t go his way,” Harvey replied. He tried to keep his tone light so that Mike would sense that he wasn’t really pissed off, even if there was some level of truth in his statement: he really thought that Mike’s reaction was childish.

“A five- You said that I was being ridiculous!” Mike protested, baffled.

“You _were_ ,” Harvey stressed. Which wasn’t exactly a great move. “Look, I… I appreciate your concern, Mike, but changing my hair colour is way too much. I’m not gonna do it.”

“It could have worked,” Mike mumbled, crossing his arms.

“Probably would have,” Harvey allowed, and Mike sharply lifted his eyes, now open wide because of the surprise. “But I’m not gonna spend a _week_ as a blondie, let alone the ages it may take them to catch that guy.”

“Hey, blond hair is awesome,” Mike protested. Then he sobered up, putting his hands in his pockets and shifting awkwardly for a second. “Listen, Harvey, I- Uh- I’m sorry. I was a little out of line, I know, it’s just- I just worry.”

Harvey shrugged. “I was probably an ass about it,” he admitted.

Mike smirked. “You were.”

“I was about to offer to cook dinner tonight, but since _that’s_ what you think of me I think I’ll go to a restaurant. _By myself_.”

“You said it first!” Mike protested, and by then his grin was on its way to turn into a real, big smile. Harvey found himself being way too glad to see _that_ instead of Mike’s blank or frowning face.

“ _I_ can say it. _You_ can’t agree.”

Mike just kept grinning at him, and Harvey covered his own grin with a sigh. “Go back to work before I decide to fire you.”

“Yes, sir!” Mike saluted like a military before heading out of the office.

Harvey was still smiling when a click came from the intercom.

“ _How sweet_.”

“Shut up, Donna.”

 

 

“Hello?” Harvey answered, gesturing to Mike to keep quiet. Mike hid his giggling behind his hands: the kid was obviously hysterical, they had been overworking in the past few days, and even if it was barely half past eight pm they were extremely tired.

“ _Mr. Specter?”_ Answered a man at the other end of the line. Harvey immediately recognized him as his doorman.

“Preston?”

“ _I’m so sorry to call you at work, but there was in intruder in your apartment_.”

“What?!” Harvey frowned. Mike had stopped laughing by then, and he was frowning in concern instead.

“ _I heard the alarm and I called the police when I saw the front door open, but when they got here whoever it was was already gone_.”

Harvey sighed, pinching the top of his nose. “Alright,” he said. “Alright, alright. Thanks, I’ll be there as soon as I can to see what’s missing. Have you closed the front door?”

“ _Yeah. The police said that you can report it later if you want to_.”

“Alright. Thanks.”

Harvey had barely finished the conversation when Mike asked: “What happened? Is everything alright?”

“We need to go home,” Harvey said, as nonchalantly as he could. He still hadn’t completely wrapped his head around it, everything felt pretty surreal. “Someone broke into my apartment, we need to check if anything is missing.”

“Someone- What?” Mike blinked.

“Someone robbed my place,” Harvey repeated, slowly. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

They had stolen his laptop, his watch, the bag of clothes Mike had left next to the couch, the goddamn coffee machine and they had searched his room, probably looking for money. If anything else was missing, Harvey didn’t notice right away.

“Well, thank God that amazing piece of art is still there,” Harvey commented, pointing at the little panda painting that Mike had put on a cupboard, because apparently he loved it too much to live without it, as much as temporarily.

“You would think that the best closer in the city would have a decent alarm system,” Mike shot back, checking on Harvey’s records to see if they were all still there.

“I’m totally going to have a chat with the guy who designed it. Tomorrow,” Harvey said. He sighed, rubbing his face with his right hand as he felt the exhaustion from all the work he had been doing lately falling over his shoulders. Now that the adrenaline rush was gone, he was very much aware that he needed a break. He eyed Mike, who was still looking around for missing stuff.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep. We’ll check again tomorrow,” Harvey announced. Mike turned, his eyes bloodshot, even if he looked pretty awake. It was probably the coffee he had drank after dinner.

“I don’t have clothes,” Mike complained, frowning in a way that was almost theatrical.

“I’ll lend you something, just stop snooping through my stuff.”

Not that what was his or Mike’s made much of a difference those days.

 

They ended up on the couch, completely worn out but unwilling to go to sleep.

Harvey couldn’t quite shake off the thought that someone had broken into his house, that someone had come in there and if they had done it before they could do it again, they could jump in and kill them both, if they wanted. It was stupid and irrational, but Harvey couldn’t prevent himself from wanting to stay awake and vigilant.

“We could watch another movie,” Mike pointed out, shrugging. Harvey would have bet his ass that they were having the same thoughts.

“We need to sleep,” Harvey said, though. Mike’s face looked horrible, there was no way he could be functional enough to work the following morning if he didn’t get any sleep. There was a moment of silence. “Maybe you should take the bed tonight,” Harvey added, because maybe if he could get the kid to fall asleep he could watch some more TV. Also, there were too many windows plus the front door in the living room, Harvey preferred to keep an eye on them himself.

Mike looked at him for a couple of seconds, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times. His eyes drifted away when he pointed out: “You know, your bed is big.”

“So?”

“So… I mean, your couch is wonderful but it’s not _that_ comfortable, and these sheets are kinda shitty and I wouldn’t want you being all cranky in the morning and for the whole following day, but, you know, sleeping in a bed for a change would actually be really nice, we could just share, it’s not like it would mean anything or be awkward, we just-”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Harvey rolled his eyes, interrupting that endless rambling. “You talk too much.”

Mike started at him for a couple of seconds, then he smirked slightly. “Yeah, you're right, I talk too much,” he began, solemnly. “I also listen too much. I could be a cold-hearted cynic like you... but I don't like to hurt people's feelings. Well, you think what you want about me; I'm not changing. I like... I like me. My wife-”

“Alright, alright, I got it,” Harvey interrupted, raising his hand to stop him but smirking back. It was the middle of the night and the kid still came up with movie references. He seemed pretty pleased that Harvey had recognized _Planes, Trains and Automobiles_. As if it was a surprise. “We can share, hotshot. Just don’t kiss my ear.”

“Promise.”

It was only when they stood up and headed towards the bedroom that the _enormity_ of what he had just done sank into Harvey’s mind: he had just accepted to _sleep_ with Mike. And yes, it was really just sleeping and they were already living together, they were a little bit beyond worrying about personal space by then, but _still_ , they had basically just destroyed the last wall, the last protection keeping them separated.

A part of Harvey yelled and kicked, because it couldn’t possibly be a good idea. But he was way too tired to overthink it and, really, when had Mike ever betrayed his trust before? And it was just a bed, anyway. Just a bed.

 

 

“That was _way_ more comfortable than the couch,” Mike declared.

He was smiling widely, like an idiot, and Harvey just shook his head slightly, trying to hide his smirk in his cup of coffee.

“It baffles me how you can be _alive_ after sleeping so little,” he commented.

“I’ve slept on a _bed_ , for a change,” Mike remarked. “My back is singing angelic choirs right now.”

Harvey felt a sting of guilt at that. His couch was offensively expensive and probably way more comfortable than any other couch around, but it was still a _couch_. Sleeping on it probably wasn’t the greatest experience ever.

He waved the guilt away by reminding himself that it was by Mike’s own decision that they were in that situation. It was his stubbornness that was keeping him there, not Harvey, and if he ended up hunchbacked like an old man it was Mike’s fault and his fault only.

 

That night, while Mike was taking a shower, Harvey decided to take the extra sheets away and clean them. His bed did have room for two, after all.

 

 

“You get that cab and go back to the firm, I’ll meet him alone,” Harvey announced, gesturing towards the street.

Mike stared at him, arching his eyebrows. “You’re joking, right?”

“ _What_ , is it weird that I’ve asked you to go back to work on billable hours?”

“What’s weird that you want to go to the other side of the city _alone_ and have _dinner_ with a client,” Mike replied. “ _Dinner_. As in _evening_. Which is damn close to _night_. _Alone_.”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Technically, I’m not alone, I’m with a client,” he said, deciding that trying to turn the whole thing into a joke, as much as he knew that it was unlikely to work, could be worth a shot.

“Who could be our famous psychopath,” Mike replied, crossing his arms.

“ _That_ guy?” Harvey scoffed.

“They usually are the ones you’d never suspect.”

Harvey stared at him, narrowing his eyes and trying to telepathically tell him to knock it off.

“I know where your reservation is,” Mike said, casually, with a slight smirk. “I can follow you, whether you want me to or not.”

Harvey was torn between admiring his determination and wanting to _break his neck_.

“Mr. Booth doesn’t appreciate it when he has to discuss business in front of associates and other _low-rank_ people,” he pointed out.

“That hurt,” Mike replied, acting offended. “And if that’s the case, I can just stand outside of the restaurant.”

“For the _whole_ dinner?” Harvey asked, amused.

Mike shrugged. Harvey knew that he wouldn’t let it go. He hadn’t let _anything_ about that whole thing go since when it started. Well, except the hair. Thank God.

He sighed. “Alright,” he finally agreed. “But you’re not standing outside like a creep, I’ll find you a table or something.”

“Great,” Mike grinned.

 

“Look who was _not_ a serial killer,” Harvey remarked, opening the door and letting Mike slip out before him. He realized a second too late that he could have made it into a joke about ‘ladies first’. Dammit.

“Well, you never know,” Mike replied. “God, that wine was _good_.”

Harvey raised his eyebrows at Mike’s giggle. “You know, if he _had_ tried to abduct me, you would have been useless.”

“Nonsense,” Mike slurred, waving vaguely as if to physically reject Harvey’s remark. “I can still fight. Look.” He proceeded to throwing sloppy punches in Harvey’s general direction, avoiding imaginary hits as he made frankly _obscene_ sounds with his mouth.

“Alright,” Harvey stopped him, grabbing his wrists and smiling slightly. “Let’s get you home, Tyson.”

 

 

Honestly, when Harvey had gone for a morning run on the week-end, it hadn’t even crossed his mind to leave a message for Mike, because a) the kid was sound asleep and it didn’t look like he would wake up before noon at the very _least_ ; b) he wouldn’t be gone for longer than an hour and a half, what reason was there to leave a note?

Apparently, he should have decided to leave something, because when he came back, sweaty but pretty reinvigorated, he was invested by Mike’s screams before he could even realize what was going on.

“Where were you?!” Mike was yelling. Wow, it kinda looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

“Mike, what-”

“I looked for you everywhere!” Mike completely ignored him, gesturing widely with his arms and hands while pacing around the room. “You weren’t in the kitchen nor in the bathroom, your fucking _phone_ was over here – Harvey tried to open his mouth to point out that he had forgotten to recharge it during the night, but he wasn’t given a chance to speak –, and the _window_ was open! Someone could have gotten _in_ as far as I knew, what the _fuck_ , Harvey?!”

“Jesus, Mike,” Harvey said, raising his eyebrows. “I just went for a run, calm down-”

“I’m not calming down,” Mike kept yelling. “Because I had no idea where you had disappeared to! You could have left me a message, a note, _something_ , I thought that something had happened to you and I lost my _shit_ because I love you and I have no idea what I’d do if you left me too, alright?!”

Harvey blinked.

_…love me?_

They stayed silent for a couple of seconds, Harvey trying to come up with something to say that sounded a little more coherent than “uh?”, while simultaneously trying to convince himself that the term ‘love’ could be used very loosely, and there was no way he meant it _that_ way. Mike was just scared, because he had been right in between paranoid and completely insane since when that whole thing had started, and Harvey probably should have seen it coming, thinking about it.

Mike sighed, rubbing his face with both of his hands. “Look, sorry, I probably shouldn’t yell, but you _scared_ me,” he said.

“I just went for a run,” Harvey repeated, slowly. “I thought you’d sleep through the whole thing.”

“I wish I had,” Mike mumbled.

Harvey stared at him silently. Mike’s eyes were now locked on the ground, and now that the anger seemed to have evaporated he just looked tired and a little embarrassed.

“I brought breakfast,” Harvey offered, raising his hand to show the plastic bag he had forgotten he had been holding.

Mike smiled.

 

 

They were at the office when news broke out that they had managed to catch the serial killer. Mike smiled brightly, his eyes full of relief as he turned towards Harvey.

Harvey smiled back, but he couldn’t help thinking about what that would _mean_. He thought back to all Mike’s stuff at his apartment, to how their lives were now just in sync, way more than they used to be. He thought about the turns to shower and cook, the evenings watching movies on the couch and the shared bed during the night. There wasn’t any deliberate physical contact whatsoever, but it felt _good_ to not be alone during the night.

He had always known he’d lose all that, sooner or later. He just felt like the moment had come too soon.

“How about tonight we order some pizza to celebrate?” Mike suggested, still smiling like an idiot.

Harvey decided not to spoil the moment with talks about Mike’s future arrangements. Also, a childish part of him almost hoped that Mike would just _forget_ about the fact that he had no reason to stay anymore. As if he could ever forget anything at all.

“Why not,” he replied. “Now go back to work, this is no excuse to take the day off.”

 

Harvey spent the whole day trying to ignore the hammering thought of Mike’s imminent leaving. Donna, of course, tried to get him to talk about it. He stonewalled her and made it clear that there was nothing to talk about. She shook her head knowingly and said to let her know if he needed a couple of tissues.

During the evening, sharing a pizza on the couch, Harvey tried not to think about it. He was successful only partially.

 

Harvey kept waiting for the moment to arrive, for Mike to gather his things and say: “Well, it was good while it lasted.”

The moment, as days passed, just never came.

Neither of them mentioned it, just like neither of them ever mentioned how Mike had blurted out that he _loved_ him that Saturday morning. Harvey was pretty sure that he didn’t mean it _that_ way anyway.

 

 

They were taking care of some left-over work that they decided would be more comfortably dealt with on the big bed at home, when Harvey decided to try and stop torturing himself with the doubt that Mike could just decide to leave any moment.

“You know, I could help you move the rest of your stuff here,” he said, keeping his tone casual.

Mike raised his head from the papers. Harvey pretended that his eyes never left the ones in front of him.

“Well, yeah,” he mumbled, and Harvey swallowed heavily, breathing in more difficultly than he should have. “I mean, the couple of things that aren’t here already. I- I do like living here.”

Harvey curled his lips thoughtfully. “…And your apartment is pretty shitty…” he supplied.

“I _do_ like it,” Mike protested. “But, mmh, here surely is, uh, _nicer_.”

Harvey stayed silent for a couple of seconds. “Good,” he said.

“Good.”

They went back to work, and Harvey still couldn’t quite believe that he had just done _that_ , but it didn’t last long.

“You know, we could have dinner, uh, outside. One of these days,” Mike said. This time, Harvey didn’t bother trying not to look up from his papers. “Like, at a restaurant, or something,” Mike added.

Harvey swallowed. He felt like he _knew_ what Mike was saying, and his half-hopeful, half-nervous expression could only confirm it, but at the same time- he could be _wrong_.

Oh, to hell with it, when was Harvey _ever_ wrong?

“Like on a date?” he suggested, boldly, without a care in his tone.

“Yeah!” Mike replied, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. He seemed to notice it too. “I mean. If you want to.”

Harvey blinked, then he couldn’t help letting out a smirk. “That has to be the lamest way that someone has ever asked me out,” he chuckled.

“Look who’s talking,” Mike immediately pointed out, more at ease. “Are you always that smooth when you ask people to move in?”

“You had already moved half of your stuff in _before_ I asked!” Harvey protested.

“Not the point,” Mike replied. He was smirking too, leaning back on the pillows behind him, the papers forgotten on his lap. His eyes seemed like the brightest thing in the room in that moment.

Harvey’s smirk softened. _I think I love you too_.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t resist the temptation to throw in a couple of clichés, like the screamed love confession, sorry, I’ve always wanted to try that one :P Thanks for reading!


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